Yet either the rest or the wine seemed already to have done him good. He turned irresolutely to the table upon which lay the scattered leaves of his old manuscripts. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray.
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